The New Kid
by No Named No Face
Summary: Harry wanted nothing more than to be a good boy, because good boys got hugs and kisses. But when the new kid shows up, Harry learns there's something better, love. HP/KH kid!fic
1. Bad Boy

**Author****'****s**** Note:**So this story is completely AU from either the Glee or Harry Potter universe (obviously). So far only the time pre-Hogwarts is written, but if enough interest is generated then I will continue it into Hogwarts and post-Hogwarts timeline. I would also like to thank **27quill**, because reading her wonderful fiction: _Summer __Bonds_ inspired me to write this. I encourage anyone who hasn't to read this if they like the Harry/Kurt pairing.

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

**Warnings:** Timeline has been skewed to fit the story. You will see how. **SLASH** (homosexual relationship) though not full out for a while. **Language**. **Abuse** (emotional and some physical). Fictional medical and psychological diagnoses. Mentions of **suicide** and **suicidal**** thoughts**. Bullying.

**Rating:** T, PG-13

**Summary:** Harry wanted nothing more than to be a good boy, because good boys got hugs and kisses. But Harry learns there's something better, love. HP/KH kid!fic

**Chapter:** One: _In __Which __Harry__ is __a __Bad __Boy_

When Adults looked at Harry the first thing they noticed was his wild black hair. It was long and shaggy, and it almost always covered his face. Not matter how many times his aunt tried to cut it to be more manageable, it would always grow back seemingly overnight.

The next thing most adults noticed was how small he was. Being small was nothing unusual for a six year old, but when compared to the other six year olds, and even some of the five or four year olds, Harry was smaller both in height and weight than most.

The third most noticeable thing, and most arguably his best feature, was his rarely seen eyes. Large eyes so green they caused most people to do a double take, just to be sure their own eyes weren't tricking them, but in the time it took for them to blink Harry's eyes were already locked firmly to the ground, hidden by dark hair and low self-confidence.

When Harry looked at an adult all he could see were featureless blurs.

Most days, especially days when his aunt and uncle were forced to take him out with them, were spent keeping his eyes firmly latched to the floor trying for all his worth not to trip. Harry learned early that tripping over things or falling due to his own clumsiness often gained him attention from people around him and his relatives.

Unwanted attention.

Something else Harry had learned early on was attention of any kind paid to him caused Uncle Vernon to become angry or caused Aunt Petunia to scold him and yell at him to stop causing trouble. Either way resulted in a sore bottom and time locked in his cupboard.

Harry's poor eyesight had one advantage. To make up for his damaged eyes his body made better use of his other senses, mainly his sense of smell and hearing. Harry could hear many things that his relatives could not.

Harry could hear his aunt's shows on the television from the living room while he was out in the garden tending to the weeding and up keep. In the garden he could hear soft whispers from the bushes that sounded like hissing. He could hear whenever Uncle Vernon was nearing the driveway, a sound he always listened for, as he didn't want to be accused of being slow with his chores. Harry's favorite thing to listen to had to be the radio. Often times Aunt Petunia would leave the radio in her room on when she took a nap upstairs while Harry cleaned or gardened.

Every now and then, while Aunt Petunia was taking a nap and Dudley was occupied with a new toy or the television in his room, Harry would sing along to the tunes he could hear on the radio. The days this happened tended to be dark overcast days that promised heavy rain. These days quickly became the small boy's favorite days. They were the perfect days to be outside working on the garden, at least until it actually rained, because the sun was not bearing down hotly on his skin and his aunt and cousin would be too tired to bother with him.

Sunny days usually meant he was locked outside to work in the garden or to cut the grass. Harry loved the being and outside and he loved the sun because he saw so little of it when he was locked in his cupboard. While he loved the sun, he hated how the sun would sometimes bake his skin into a painful bright red that would then peel and flake before it darkened.

It was on a sunny day that Harry was pulled from the garden by his Uncle Vernon, and shoved up the stairs with a quick smack on the back of his head for being slow.

"Wash quickly." Uncle Vernon said. " Wear this." He shoved some of Harry's clothing into his small hands. "Don't dawdle. If we're late because of you boy, you'll be locked in the cupboard without dinner!"

Uncle Vernon slammed the door loudly. Harry paid no mind as he turned on the water, shed his clothing and washed. The water was freezing, _'__Probably __because __Dudley __used __all__ the__ hot __water_' Harry thought with an eye roll.

"Hurry up boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed a few moments later.

Harry quickly rinsed his hair and tugged on his oversize clothing. The clothing was old, well used and lightly fade. The best of his clothing, being only three sizes too big and with no rips or tears. Harry raised an eyebrow at the clothing, not sure why his uncle would want him to wear his best clothes. He only hoped that it was not to meet his uncle's workmates again. Those men gave Harry a bad feeling.

Nearly tripping down the stairs, Harry made it down in time to watch Aunt Petunia simpering over Dudley's new outfit. Noticing that Harry had finally made it down, she glanced down at him and sneered.

Cold water dropped from his shaggy hair and into his eyes, but Harry didn't dare wipe it away. Uncle Vernon turned to the boy and glowered. "Boy, you're getting the carpet wet!" He grouched, "Freakish boy, I told you if we're late you'll be locked in your cupboard with no dinner or breakfast tomorrow! Now go dry off!"

Harry mumbled a "yes Uncle Vernon," before running to the kitchen. With the added threat of no breakfast, Harry didn't hesitate to use a small kitchen towel to rub his hair dry.

"Vernon, I'll just a moment. I almost forgot the house warming gift." Harry heard Aunt Petunia enter the kitchen. She took the towel from his hands and rubbed his head vigorously. Harry winced as she tugged harshly on his wild locks but kept silent. He was thankful for the quick work.

Aunt Petunia threw the damp towel in the sink, grabbed a covered tray from the counter, and walked out of the room.

With his hair still a little damp, Harry trailed behind his aunt. His uncle sneered at his damp hair, but didn't say anything as Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley by the hand and walked out the open door and down the street.

Harry was unsure of where they were going, but he walked a bit behind the rest of his relatives as they walked. He knew better than to be too close to them, providing an easy target to accidently trip for Dudley and with in easy striking distance for his aunt and uncle. He also knew better than to be too far, for then he would be yelled at for being slow or gain attention for being a small child walking alone.

As they walked, Harry began to recognize some of the blurs of color, smells and sounds they passed. They were on the way to Mrs. Figg's house, and older woman with more cats than Harry could count.

'_Aunt __Petunia __and__ Uncle __Vernon__ must__ be__ going__ on __a __trip__ again.__'_ Harry thought as he continued to walk. It wasn't unusual for the Dursleys to leave Harry at Mrs. Figg's house whenever they left, but it was unusual for them to walk to her house rather than drive. It was even more unusual for them to go to her house without provided Harry with enough clothing to spend the days there. In all honesty, Harry would have rather been locked outside rather be left with Mrs. Figg, but his relatives refused to leave him by himself in their house.

It wasn't that Mrs. Figg treated Harry horribly; in fact she treated him better than the Dursleys. She only smacked him when he accidentally stepped on one of her numerous cats and most of her insults were actually quite funny. However, Harry was often bored to the point of tears when left in her care. He was not allowed outside, to watch the telly, or even to cook or clean. Most of their time was spent looking at pictures of her cats.

A high-pitched bark combined with a large yellow and blue blur signified the neighboring house to Mrs. Figg's house. Just as Harry was about to steel himself against the pungent odor emitted by the numerous cats, Harry noticed something unusual. The normally quiet street was filled with music and voices that melded together. _'__A__ party?__'_ Harry questioned himself.

Not unheard of in their small neighborhood, but Harry had never been allowed to attend a party before. His uncle said it was because no one wanted to allow a troublesome freak into their home. When Harry asked why Mrs. Figg and the Dursleys allowed him in their home Uncle Vernon replied it was because they had to, smacked him across his bum and locked him in his cupboard for the rest of the day for his cheek.

Harry was so engrossed in his memories and thoughts that he almost didn't notice when the Dursleys stopped at the red door of Mrs. Figg's house. He only just managed to not knock into Uncle Vernon as he rapped on the door. Harry could hear heavy footsteps coming toward the door. _'__Mrs.__Figg__'__s __footsteps__ have__ never__ been__ that__ heavy.__'_ Harry tilted his head slightly and listened, _'__I__ don__'__t __hear__ any__ of __her__ cats __either.__'_

Suddenly a large man opened the red door. Harry instinctively took a step back and didn't dare to raise his eyes. In his experience, adults were either like the Dursleys, in which case it was better to be as small and as quiet as possible, or like Mrs. Figg in which case they ignored you.

The Dursleys were quick to introduce themselves. Uncle Vernon shook the man's hand. Aunt Petunia nodded her head and pulled Dudley in front of her to show off her "little Dudders", who then also shook the man's hand. Aunt Petunia then handed the man the covered tray she had picked up from the kitchen. The man pulled back the cover and the smell of warm cookies wafted over to Harry.

A knot formed in the boy's stomach. Those were the cookies his aunt had him make earlier in the day. One of the very first things he had learned how to make, as he was too short to properly work the stove but the perfect height to operate the oven. They had also been the very first sweet Harry could remember having, before Aunt Petunia smacked the cookie out of his hand and said they were only for "good boys". Harry vowed on that day to be as good as he could possibly be so he could taste those heavenly treats again.

That was over a year ago. Harry was still a bad boy.

"And who is this?" the man's voice drew Harry's eyes up. Bright green eyes meet hazel eyes so close that the boy could actually see them clearly. Startled, Harry took another step back and began to fall off the raised step. "Whoa!"

A hand reached out and caught his wrist, pulling him forward and steadying the small boy with another hand on his shoulder. Harry froze. Panic raised within the boy and caught in his throat. The last time someone had grabbed him like this Uncle Vernon had smelled heavily of his favorite beer and Harry had nearly broken his leg from being pushed down the stairs.

"Hey little guy, it's alright. Don't worry, you didn't fall." The man let go of Harry's wrist. "Just don't cry, come on don't cry." The man pleaded.

Green eyes squinted up at the man. _'__He__'__s __worried __I__'__m__ going __to __cry?__'_ Harry thought in confusion. The man pulled a cookie from under the tray and held it out to the boy.

Confused, and more than a little cautious, Harry glanced around for the Dursleys. He couldn't see their familiar blurs, nor could he hear or smell them anywhere near. They had apparently already gone inside, more than likely they had forgotten they had brought him along.

Harry shyly reached out for the cookie. He saw a flash of white and assumed the man was smiling. Harry felt his lips pull back slightly in an answer and took the cookie. He bit into the warm treat and nearly cried out at the sweet and explosive flavor of chocolate on his tongue.

"My name's Burt kid. Burt Hummel." The man, Mr. Burt, watched as the boy ate the cookie, savoring every bite like it might be his last. "What's your name?"

The small boy swallowed his bite. "Harry." He answered quietly and took another bite.

Burt smiled and ignored that Harry hadn't given a last name. "I think your mom and dad already went inside," he held out his hand, "lets go in and find 'em, eh? Then you can meet my son, he's probably closer to your brothers age but I'm sure you'll get along."

As Harry mournfully took the last bite of his cookie he blinked up at Mr. Burt not sure whether or not to correct his misconception. He decided no to say anything. Usually when he spoke out of turn he was being "cheeky" and would then be sent to his cupboard. Mr. Burt had been so nice to him; he'd even thought Harry was a good boy! At least good enough to be given a cookie, and he didn't want to appear cheeky.

Harry's hand was held lightly in Mr. Burt's grip as they made their way through the house. Harry smelled the combination of cleaners and the faded scent of cats. This was Mrs. Figg's house, or at least it use to be. The furniture was even in the same place. So where was Mrs. Figg?

Glancing up at Mr. Burt, Harry wondered if the big man killed Mrs. Figg like those men in the crime shows Aunt Petunia sometimes watched. Harry gulped. Aunt Petunia said those bad men would come after naughty freaky boys like Harry. Would Mr. Burt go after Harry? Would he kill him?

Harry dismissed the idea quickly. Mr. Burt had been nothing but kind to Harry so far, and he didn't give Harry a bad feeling like Uncle Vernon's workmates or the old man that always watched kids going in or out of the market. They made his skin crawl and his blood run cold. There was something about Mr. Burt, Harry noted, that made him feel warm and almost safe.

Almost.

Finding the Dursleys wasn't difficult. They were standing outside talking with what Harry knew, for some odd reason, to be a very pretty woman. The woman had a smaller child size blur wrapped around her legs. She smelled of perfume, flowers and berries, and radiated a warmth similar to what Harry felt in Burt but stronger. As Burt and he neared the small group, Harry heard other people around him speaking. A short distance away he could also hear some of the other neighborhood kids playing.

Some of the other adults noticed Burt holding Harry's hand. They assumed, logically if one believed the Dursleys, that Burt had caught Harry doing something naughty. Many felt a pang of sympathy for the Dursleys for having to deal with such a troubled child. Those with children near them made it a point to tell their children to stay away from what they considered to be a bad influence.

Harry's face grew hot. He ducked his head further down to allow his hair to cover his shame. He could only hope once the Dursleys told Mr. Burt about how bad he was that he wouldn't tell them about his mistake of giving Harry a cookie.

They stopped. Harry quickly pulled his hand from Mr. Burt's, silently cursing himself for not letting go sooner. He hoped Uncle Vernon had not seen.

The fire in the glare he felt Uncle Vernon give him left little doubt Harry would be answering for this once they got back to the privacy of their house.

"I found this little guy by the front door, thought you might like him back." Burt said in good humor.

Aunt Petunia laughed a bit too loudly to be genuine. Harry always thought it sounded like a horse's whinny. "That's our nephew, Harry." She simpered. "Poor boy is troubled."

Aunt Petunia grabbed Harry by his wrist and pulled him toward her. Narrowly missing tumbling to the ground, Harry was brought to his aunt's side. She subtly pushed him back. He took the hint and skirted behind his aunt.

"Troubled?" The woman asked.

"Oh yes, the poor dear." Aunt Petunia's hand patted Harry's a bit too forcibly. Harry barely resisted the urge to massage his sore scalp. "His parents were drunk behind the wheel one night. Had a terrible crash. It killed the both of them and must have knocked a few things loose with the boy. He hardly speaks to anyone who isn't family and he can't help himself from getting into trouble."

Harry glared at the floor. He couldn't help being naughty because he didn't know what was considered to be good behavior. When he tried acting like Dudley he got a thrashing from the Dursleys and a call home from the school, which resulted in another thrashing. He was near the point of giving up all hope of ever being able to be good, and thus, giving up all hope of ever getting hugs or kisses like Dudley and other good kids got.

"Oh." The awkward reply came from Mr. Burt.

Harry glared harder at the grass, face burning and heart bruised.

"Perhaps he just needs a friend his own age," the woman's soft voice sooth Harry's bruised heart and he began to hope.

"Best to not let him around other children." Uncle Vernon interrupted. "We have a hard time keeping him under control with our Dudders. Boy use to push him around, pull his hair, blame Dudders for breaking things. He can be a right handful if not watched properly."

Harry felt his hope die a fiery death as more heat flooded his cheeks. He never pushed Dudley or pulled his hair, in fact Dudley had done those to him! The only time he accused Dudley of breaking something was when Dudley broke a dish and blamed Harry first!

He kept silent. Harry knew going against whatever Uncle Vernon said usually ended with him in the cupboard with a throbbing bottom or head, and most likely a new bruise.

"Nonsense." Harry was startled when he felt a hand, too soft to be Aunt Petunia and too small to be Uncle Vernon, gently rub his hair before trailing down his face to grab his chin. The hand gently raised his face and he was greeted by the prettiest face he had ever seen. "Hello Harry, my name is Elizabeth Hummel. You may call me Eliza." She gave him a large smile and Harry felt his heart practically burst through his chest.

Harry swallowed hard. She must have been a princess from one of Dudley's storybooks. Or an angel he heard about from the television. She felt so warm. Her hand was soft on his face and her voice was musical. She stayed kneeling on the ground and Harry realized she was waiting for a reply.

Harry was torn. His aunt and uncle had made it clear he was never to speak with strangers. _'__But__ she__'__s __not __a__ stranger!__ She __knows __my __name __and__ she__'__s __even __letting __me __call __her __by __her __first __name!__'_ His aunt and uncle had also made it clear that any rudeness from him would result in a thrashing. Was he being rude for making Mrs. Eliza kneel and potentially ruin her dress with dirt?

"My name is Harry." He finally said.

Mrs. Eliza's smile grew larger and Harry was very glad he answered. She pulled back and let go of Harry's face. Reaching out a hand behind her, Mrs. Eliza gestured for a small blur to come closer.

As the blur got closer, Harry realized that the child was a boy.

"This," Mrs. Eliza said, "is my son Kurt." The little boy reached out a hand. Harry hesitated briefly before holding it. "If you're a good boy Harry, you may play together."

Harry grew sad and dropped Kurt's hand. He didn't know how to be good.

"Just don't push Kurt or pull his hair, Harry." Harry looked back up at Mrs. Eliza's smiling face. "Be nice to Kurt and don't hurt him. That's how you become a good boy Harry."

The small hand returned to wrap itself around Harry's hand. "Come on." A soft and smooth voice said. "Let go play."

'_He __sounds __like__ a __girl,__'_ Harry thought as he was pulled away from the Dursleys and the Hummels. He looked down at the pale hand holding his tanned one. _'__I __like __it.__'_

Kurt pulled the dark haired boy to where the other children were playing. From how the boys and girls were running around, Kurt figured they must have been playing tag. Normally Kurt was against playing such games. He couldn't understand what was so fun about running around and shoving each other, but his mother had given him a new friend. He was determined to show Harry how fun a friend Kurt was.

"Hey guys!" Kurt called out, his hand still firmly around Harry's. He felt his new friend grow stiff. "Can we play?"

The other kids, only about ten in all, stopped playing. They all looked at each other before one boy stepped forward.

"You can play," he said, "but Potter can't."

Kurt turned to look at his new friend, who was currently looking at the ground again. "Who's Potter? Harry and I want to play."

The boy, who reminded Kurt of a rat, sneered. "Harry _is_ Potter, and Harry Potter isn't allowed to play with us. The other kids nodded in agreement.

Harry tugged his hand, trying to get out of Kurt's grip. He just held on tighter.

"Why can't Harry play?" Kurt demanded with a glare. He was really starting to not like this rat face kid.

"Because he's a freak." The boy stated matter-of-factually.

Tears of embarrassment gathered in Harry's eyes. Kurt caught a glance of them out of the corner of his eyes.

Kurt glared at the rat-faced boy harder. " You can't say that about my friend!" He yelled. "Take it back you meanie!"

"Piers is right!" A girl said from somewhere in the crowd. "My momma said that Potter's a bad boy and that we shouldn't play with him! Even Dudley says that Potter's a freak because his parents told him so!"

Kurt shifted his glare from Piers to the whole group. He tugged at Harry's hand, bringing the smaller boy to his front and wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and waist. "Listen up!" He yelled so loudly that even some of the adults stopped talking to see what was going on. " Harry is my friend! My mommy gave him to me, and she would never give me anything bad or freaky! That means that Harry Potter isn't bad or a freak, it means that Harry Potter is mine!"

Kurt ended his speech by sticking his tongue out at the other kids. He spun around, noticed the adults staring at him, stuck his nose in the air and dragged Harry by his shoulders back into the house.

Silence filled the backyard. A silence that was quickly broken by Dudley marching his way to Piers demanding to know what happened wit the freak and the new kid.

Slowly other parents return to their conversations. Vernon Dursley's face was turning an unattractive shade of purple, while Petunia Dursley forced out a strained laugh and sipped on her drink. Burt Hummel gazed after his son and his new friend. Elizabeth Hummel just smiled knowingly and his it behind her drink.

"That's my boy."

**Author****'****s ****Ending ****Notes:** Please tell me what you think. Should I continue it or leave it how it is?


	2. Harry Cries

**Author****'****s**** Note:**I want to thank everyone for the positive reviews and the interest shown in the continuation of this story!

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

**Warnings:** Timeline has been skewed to fit the story. You will see how. **SLASH** (homosexual relationship) though not full out for a while. **Language**. **Abuse** (emotional and some physical). Fictional medical and psychological diagnoses. Mentions of **suicide** and **suicidal**** thoughts**. Bullying.

**Rating:** T, PG-13

**Summary:** Harry is taken to a party with his relatives. There he meets the Hummel family, and is claimed as a friend by Kurt Hummel.

**Chapter:** Two: _In__ Which __Harry__ Cries_

Elizabeth Hummel watched as her son dragged the smaller boy toward the group of playing children. Harry seemed a little shy, but eager to gave a new friend. She had seen the way his eyes brightened with joy when she told him to get to along with Kurt.

Elizabeth hoped Kurt would help Harry out of the timid shell he had built around himself. Hopefully once he was brought out of that shell, the green-eyed boy could move o n from the tragedy of his parent's deaths and stop being such a problem for his relatives.

"Daddy!" The high squeal of a voice came from the large boy who was pulling on Vernon's pants. "Daddy! Why did we have to bring the freak along? He's going to scare away all my friends!" At this point Dudley stomped his pudgy foot.

Startled, and a little amused that Dudley sounded so much like the piglet he resembled, Elizabeth glanced over at Burt. The man looked back at her with a shrug, but his eyes darted to Kurt and Harry. They were just arriving at the group of children. Satisfied that they were behaving, he just shrugged his shoulders again.

Vernon Dursley landed a hefty hand on his son's shoulders. "Don't worry son," he said, " the other kids know who the right sort are."

Petunia must have seen the incredulous expression on Elizabeth's face because she giggled awkwardly. _'__More__ like __whinnied._' Elizabeth thought unkindly as she studied the woman across from her. Mrs. Dursley had a long neck, nearly twice as long as a normal neck, with a long face and large front teeth, which only served to further Elizabeth's association with a horse.

" The right sort?" Elizabeth parroted teasingly. "Does that mean you consider Harry, _your __nephew_, to be the wrong sort?"

Vernon's chins wobbled as he stuttered an intelligible retort. Burt subtly nudged his wife, recognizing her teasing had a hint of an accusation in it.

Petunia smiled, showing entirely too many teeth to be really sincere, and said, "Of course not. What my husband is trying to say is the children are wary of the poor boy. One never knows when he'll have on of his episodes."

"Well, a child that has gone through such a traumatic experience like loosing his parents can't get better without a little patience and help." Elizabeth snapped unable to force any false pleasantry into her tone.

"I think what Elizabeth is trying to say," Burt interjected, "is maybe you should consider getting Harry some professional help. Especially is he gets as bad as you say."

Vernon snorted. "Can't send the boy to the loony bin, and we won't pay for some money grubbing, psycho babbling shrink to tell us what we already know about the boy."

"And what is that Mr. Dursley?" Elizabeth's fiery tone burned.

Burt looked at Petunia, pleading with his eyes for her to calm her husband before they created a scene. He already knew his own wife was impossible to deal with once she committed to her crusade.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you were, a commotion from where the children where playing drew the attention on the four adults.

"Listen up!" They heard a lout and high-pitched voice shout. Burt and Petunia watched with wide eyes as Kurt wrapped himself around Harry's body and declared the smaller how as his. Vernon's face went from white to red to a violent and unnatural shade of purple.

'_I__ didn__'__t __know__ humans __could __change __colors __that __fast.__'_ Elizabeth mused with a slight smile. _'__Or __pigs __for __that __matter.__'_

A decisive and resolute, "He's mine" signaled Kurt's dismissal and parting from the group, and the boy dragged a stunned Harry back into the house. The other adults at the party did nothing for a few minutes but stare silently and wonder what had just happened. Dudley broke the silence by waddling to the other children and demanded loudly to know what had gone on.

Elizabeth surveyed the other shocked adults surrounding her with a satisfied smile hidden behind her drink. _'__That__'__s __my __boy.__'_

The young woman was glad her son had liked Harry enough to stick up for the quiet boy. _'__Maybe __now__ Kurt __won__'__t b__e__ so__ lonely __with __a __friend __close __to __his __own __age.__'_ Elizabeth turned her blue eyes toward the house. _'__And__ maybe, __Harry __can __heal.__'_

"That!" Vernon squealed, pulling Elizabeth from her thoughts, " That right there! That's exactly what we were saying! That boy is always the cause of trouble! It's in his blood."

"That _boy_," Elizabeth spat out the word, "as you so lovingly call your nephew, didn't look like he was causing trouble! In fact, if anything, it was _my_ son who was 'causing trouble' as you call it. So tell me, Mr. Dursley, do you think my son has bad blood?"

Burt placed calming hands on his wife's shoulders. "Sweetheart," he said gently, "let's not pick a fight with our neighbors." He bent his head and whispered in her ear, "I know you want to help Harry, but you can't help him if you alienate his family."

Elizabeth paused from her simmering anger. Burt was right, she knew that in her head, but there was something about the Dursleys that didn't settle well with her. _'__And __it__'__s __not __their __remarkable __resemblance __to __farm __animals.__'_

Nonetheless, Elizabeth swallowed the rest of her anger and frustration. Her lips pulled into her most charming smile, the one that made Burt fall in love with her only ten years ago, and she apologized, "I'm sorry Vernon. I'm a child psychologist and I can sometimes be consumed by the need to protect them." She paused, and then added with no small amount of sarcasm, "even if they don't need it."

Burt nudged her side, and she just knew he was giving her his famous I-know-what-you're-doing-and-it's-not-funny look. Vernon either didn't notice the sarcasm or let it slide as he accepted her apology and returned to a more humane skin tone.

"In fact," she continued, cutting off Petunia's attempt to change the conversation to the Dursley's award winning home garden, "I believe it would be a great idea for Harry to come over at least three times a week. This way we can work on his behavior problems. Of course, this will be free of all charge."

"Now see here!" Vernon sounded offended. "We won't be some charity-"

"Of course not." Elizabeth smile indulgently, "There will be no charity, as a matter of fact you'd be doing us a favor. You see Kurt is still too young to go to school and we were worried about him making friends while we're staying here, but with Harry here that shouldn't be a problem."

Taken back by the beautiful woman's charming smile, Vernon turned toward his wife. Petunia, not able to come up with a reasonable excuse to say no, shrugged her shoulders and nodded. Vernon mimicked his wife and accompanied it with an "Alright."

"Great! Why don't Petunia and I set the plans, while Burt and Vernon talk about 'men's stuff'." Elizabeth didn't bother waiting for a response before looping her arm around Petunia's and led her toward the kitchen for a refill on their drinks.

Burt and Vernon exchanged looks. With neither one quite knowing what to say, an awkward silence ensued. Burt mentally cursed his wife for leaving him with the pig like man with no bacon wraps to offer.

Harry was so shocked by Kurt's outburst he was sure he wouldn't have noticed his surroundings even if he had perfect vision. He was glad to have Kurt guiding him through the house; otherwise he would have run into several people and furniture.

When they finally stopped, Harry realized they were at a door. Kurt was mumbling behind him, only removing one of his hands long enough to push open the door.

The door opened to reveal blurs of pale blues and greens. The blurs told Harry this was a boy's room, most likely Kurt's bedroom. It was much neater than Dudley's room and huge when compared to Harry's cupboard.

"Stupid… puke face…." Kurt mumbled angrily as he pushed Harry toward his bed. He motioned for Harry to sit on it before going to retrieve some toys from his toy box. "Saying my friend-_my__ friend-_ isn't good enough…meanie face butt heads…"

Harry was hesitant to sit on the bed. The one time he had been on Dudley's bed, while trying to make it, he had been shoved off by his cousin. The resulting fall caused him to hit the night table next to the bed creating a lump on the back of head the size of his fist.

A particularly loud insult from Kurt snapped Harry's attention from the bed to the other boy. At first the green eyed boy thought Kurt was mad at him, but after a moment of listening Harry realized the boy was angry at the other kids for not wanting to play with Harry.

In his heart, Harry felt something warm build. The feeling got bigger and bigger as Kurt became more creative with his insults. The taller boy gathered some toys in his arms and marched back to Harry.

With one last frustration groan, Kurt dropped the toys at Harry's feet. They landed with a loud cluttering thunk. The noise apparently startled Harry and he jumped.

Kurt, seeing he had scared his friend, bent to the ground and picked up a toy train. "Sorry. " He apologized. Kurt held out the train as a peace offering.

Harry stared at the toy, not quite sure what he was suppose to do. When he glanced up questioningly at Kurt, the taller boy nearly dropped the train again.

"Wow," Kurt said with awe, "your eyes are really green. Like really, really green!"

Face flushed, Harry turned his eyes back to the ground.

"Hey," Kurt tried to catch his eyes again, "I didn't mean that they were ugly. I think they're pretty. Really, really pretty! They look like the rock on mommy's wedding ring."

When Harry refused to meet his eyes again, Kurt released a frustrated sigh. Getting an idea he allowed the toy to drop, more gently this time, to the floor. Using his hands to frame Harry's face, Kurt pulled it to face his.

"I'm not going to let go until you look at me." Kurt stated. " I really won't. I once help my breath for almost ten whole minutes because daddy changed the song on the radio."

Green eyes widened and stared amazed into Kurt's blue-grey eyes. "Okay," Kurt admitted after another stunned moment. "It wasn't really ten minutes, but it was close!"

Harry raised one eyebrow.

Un phased, Kurt used his thumbs to pull at the corner of Harry's lips into a parody of a smile. It showed most of Harry's teeth in an unnatural way and Kurt couldn't help but laugh.

"You look like a monkey with all those teeth!"

Harry rolled his eyes unconsciously. When he realized what he had done he looked fearfully at Kurt. The last time he had rolled his eyes at Dudley, Uncle Vernon had threatened to pull out his eyes. Would Kurt tell?

Kurt just laughed louder. His hands let go of Harry's face and brought them to his own face. "I can look like a fish." He proclaimed and then pushed his cheeks together so his lips were puckered. "Blub, blub." He said, trying to imitate a fish.

A smile tugged at the edges of Harry's mouth. Kurt began to prance around the room, pretending to be a fish in the ocean. He continued to make the 'fish' sound in an almost musical tone.

The smile on Harry's lips grew.

Kurt jumped on the bed. With his hands thrust in the air the boy began to sing. Harry recognized the tine from a movie that had played on the telly about a girl who was half fish. He remembered the song because Aunt Petunia had scolded him right after the song had finished for exposing her Dudders to his freakish habits and shows. Harry had gone to bed hungry that night.

"Under the sea!" Kurt's energetic voice chased away Harry's thoughts. "Under the sea! No body beat us, fry us and eat us!"

A chuckle escaped Harry as he watched the blur that was Kurt dance wildly on the bed. He could almost hear the instrumental melody playing with Kurt's voice.

" Under the sea!" Kurt finished the song by jumping off the bed and swinging Harry around the room.

Harry didn't know what to do at first, but he quickly followed Kurt's lead. At the end of the twirling Kurt tried to gallantly dip Harry, but his arms were too weak to hold him up and they fell into a pile on the floor.

Beneath Kurt's boisterous laughter, a softer one could be heard. Kurt was excited that his new friend was laughing. For a moment the boy had been concerned Harry didn't like him, especially after all of the commotion Kurt had caused when he tried to get the other kids to play with them.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Harry and squeezed tightly. "I'm happy." He admitted. "I'm happy that mommy gave you to me."

Harry's laughter had died down.

The small boy basked in the warmth Kurt emitted before hesitantly wrapping his arms around the other boy, imitating what Kurt was doing. _'__Is __this __what __a __hug__ feels __like?__'_ Harry quickly pushed down the bubbling feeling. As soon as Kurt realized Harry was a bad boy, he knew the taller boy would not do this again.

"Don't listen to those jerks." Kurt's words were spoken directly into his ear. "Mommy gave you to me, so that means you can't be bad." The words burned in Harry's ears and heart.

Tears flooded Harry's eyes. He blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. "How?" he choked, "How do you know I'm not bad?"

"Because silly mommies don't ever do anything bad to their kids, so my mommy wouldn't give me anything bad either." Kurt squeezed his friends tighten.

"Then why did your mommy give me to you?" Harry whispered.

Kurt smiled against Harry's ear. "She told me that we were having this party so I could have a friend. Mommy always gets the best of anything, so when she gave me you I knew you were going to be my _bestest_ friend ever."

'B-but what if I-I am b-bad?" Harry stuttered. A tear escaped his eye.

"You aren't bad." Kurt said solidly. "And if you ever are bad you just tell me and we'll make it good."

A sob burst through Harry's lips. He buried his face into Kurt's chest as he cried.

Kurt wasn't sure why his friend was crying. He didn't completely understand how, but he knew Harry needed this cry. Almost like how he knew what Harry was saying when the smaller boy hadn't made a sound.

Heavy sobs erupted from Harry's small body. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried like this. In most cases crying at the Dursley home only resulted in the usual sore bottom and empty stomach.

As Harry cried, he felt something leaving his body. With every choking sob, his body felt lighter. Every tear that fell was a healing balm on his bruised heart. Every mouthful of air was like a fresh glass of cold water that soothed his aching head.

Harry could hear Kurt humming in his ear. It was a nameless but soulful tune that Harry had thought he'd heard before. It was a faint memory of a flash of red and green followed by the same tune and a press of warm lips against his forehead.

Eventually Harry's sobs subsided and his breathing evened out. Kurt continued to hum even as green eyes became hidden by drooping eyelids. Without stopping the tune or moving the smaller boy around too much, Kurt reached over to the bed and pulled a pillow and a blanket to the ground.

Gently, Kurt moved Harry's head onto the pillow before wrapping the blanket around the both of them. Kurt then rewrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him close.

'_It__'__s __close __to __nap time __anyway.__'_ Kurt thought. His eyes began to droop as well and his humming was broken with a yawn. _'__Harry__ makes __a __great __teddy __bear.__'_

With a happy smile on his lips, Kurt fell asleep.

The answering smile on Harry's slumbering face was missed.


	3. Harry Speaks

**Author's Note: **I want to thank everyone for the positive reviews and the interest shown in the continuation of this story! Reviews let me know your interested, so please review.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Warnings:** Timeline has been skewed to fit the story. You will see how. **SLASH** (homosexual relationship) though not full out for a while. **Language**. **Abuse** (emotional and some physical). Fictional medical and psychological diagnoses. Mentions of **suicide** and **suicidal thoughts**. Bullying.

**Rating:** T, PG-13

**Summary:** Harry is taken to a party with his relatives. There he meets the Hummel family, and is claimed as a friend by Kurt Hummel.

**Chapter:** Three: _In Which Harry Speaks_

When Harry woke up it was to the sound of breathing in his ear on a warm body pressed against his back. Harry tensed. He could hear several voices, though all were muffled and far away. The air smelled clean and cool, a vast differences from his stuffy and dust filled cupboard.

Harry breathed in deep, this time taking in the various scents that lingered in the air. The faint scent of soap and chocolate filled his lungs. The breathing in his ear was soft and even. Whoever was next to him was fast asleep.

The sun was warm on his skin, and the combination of the sun, blanket and warm body should have made him feel uncomfortably hot, but the small boy could not remember the last time he had felt as content and comfortable as he did in that moment. Harry wanted nothing more that to bury into that warmth and fall back into a deep sleep.

Almost afraid to wake up completely and leave his wonderful dream, Harry took another deep breath. He basked in the scent of soap and chocolate. _'Kurt_' Harry named the aroma as he let go of the last fuzzy moments of semi-consciousness.

Smiling, Harry opened his green eyes. Judging by the lighting, he figured it was late afternoon. _'We've been asleep for at least two hours._' Harry estimated. A hand reached up to wipe away the sleep crusted on his sore eyes.

Blood rushed to the six year old's face as he remembered his earlier breakdown. Both of Harry's hands moved to cover his face in embarrassment. _'Kurt must think I'm a crybaby!'_

Harry felt the arms around his waist tighten as if responding to his angst-ridden thoughts. Kurt mumbled softly and tried to bury his face into Harry's hair in an effort avoid waking. His nose rubbed against the back of the smaller boy's ear, causing a surprisingly loud giggle to erupt from Harry's mouth.

"What's so funny?" Kurt sleepily questioned.

Harry laughed again as Kurt's face continued to burrow deeper. "You're tickling me."

Kurt groaned softly, stopped moving and fell back asleep.

Keeping still, Harry allowed himself to bask in the warmth he rarely felt at the Dursley house.

'_The Dursleys! Uncle Vernon!_' Panic and fear coursed through Harry's small frame. He froze as possible punishments at the hands of his uncle for the scene with the other children tumbled through the young boy's mind. Harry didn't even want to imagine what was in store for him now that he had possibly made them wait for him because of a stupid nap.

Frightened by the harmful possibilities, Harry quietly and carefully squirmed his way out Kurt's tight embrace. Kurt stirred for just a moment, but he stopped before Harry could be concerned over waking his new friend.

"Friend." Harry tasted the word. It was sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the chocolate cookie he had savored earlier.

Green eyes memorized the pale blur wrapped in a light blue blanket. Harry was determined to capture this moment forever. He'd most likely never be as happy as he was in those past few hours.

Inhaling Kurt's scent one more time, Harry turned and bolted out of the room in search for the Dursleys.

HP/KH KH/HP

Barely a minute after Harry had stumbled down the stairs a heavy hand grabbed the boy's shoulder and nearly pulled his arm out of its socket.

"There you are boy." Uncle Vernon's voice carried more than a hint of frustration. "You've had us waiting for you for nearly half an hour."

Pudgy fingers dug painfully into Harry's shoulder, but he knew better than to allow himself to flinch.

"Oh Vernon, you've found Harry. Petunia!" Harry recognized the soft voice of Mrs. Eliza. "Petunia, Vernon found Harry. He must have been upstairs with Kurt."

"Oh yes, of course. Little dears must have been getting to into all sorts of trouble." Petunia's voice was full of false cheer. She came in front of Harry's face and wiped at his cheek savagely with a course napkin. "Just a bit of dirt, dear."

Harry remained still. Whenever Aunt Petunia called him 'dear', it was usually a warning not to do or say anything without her or his uncle addressing him first. Hopefully Aunt Petunia would consider the wiping of imaginary dirt off his face as his punishment for making them wait. Then he'd only have to worry about Uncle Vernon's punishment.

"Dudley!" Uncle Vernon called. "It's time to go home."

Harry could hear Dudley parting with his friends with a promise to come and play as soon as possible. This of course meant a few rounds of Harry Hunting, a game Dudley and his small gang had recently taken to playing. More Feeling than hearing the thundering footsteps of his cousin as he neared, Harry was able to brace himself for the not-so-subtle shove Dudley gave him on his way to the door.

Mr. Burt and Mrs. Eliza escorted them to the door and exchanged pleasant goodbyes with Harry's aunt and uncle. Used to being ignored by adults, Harry was surprised when Mrs. Eliza bent low to caress his hair.

"Goodnight Harry," she said, "We'll see you soon."

Harry was pulled thought the doorway and was half way down the street before he could wonder what she had meant by that statement.

HP/KH KH/HP

Kurt woke to the sound of the front door closing and an empty space next to him. Grogginess, normally something that plagued his first waking moments, left him as he quickly realized his new friend was gone.

Jumping up, Kurt scrambled to the window. He was just in time to see Harry being pulled by his uncle down the street. Blue eyes meet with green and Kurt waved to the small boy, but Harry did nothing but blankly stare back.

Anger suddenly filled Kurt. Why was his new friend leaving? Why hadn't Harry said goodbye? Why had he just stared when Kurt waved?

'_Maybe Harry doesn't really want to be my friend?'_ Despair and disappointment filled him briefly before anger and hurt pride swelled.

"Fine! If Harry's going to be a butthead then I don't want him a friend!" Kurt shouted before he flung himself face first on his bead.

"Kurt?" His mother's soft hand rubbed against his back as his small body was wracked with sobs. Elizabeth had come up the stairs to check on her son when she heard him shout. "Kurt, honey, what's wrong?"

Kurt pushed himself up from his bed and rubbed his face against his mother's side. "Mommy! Harry's a butthead! I don't want him anymore!"

Elizabeth's hands gently pulled up Kurt's red splotchy face. She began looking for bruising or welts, concerned that the boys may have gotten into a fight. Had she been wrong about Harry? " Kurt, did Harry hit you or push you?"

Kurt shook his head. "No mommy."

"Did he pull your hair or call you mean names?"

"No."

"Did he break your toys or threaten to hurt you or daddy or me?"

"No." Kurt sniffled.

"Well, honey, why is Harry a butthead?" she asked.

Kurt's sobbing subsided. "He-he left while I was sleeping, and he didn't say goodbye, and he ignored me when I waved at him from my window."

"And now you don't want to be his friend anymore?"

Kurt nodded.

"Honey, Harry had to leave. His family had been looking for him for a while, and he probably didn't want to wake you up."

Kurt was silent for a moment. When his mother explained it like that he could see, maybe, Harry wasn't a complete butthead.

"He still ignored me." He replied stubbornly.

"He probably didn't see you sweetheart."

Kurt humph, "He's still a but head, and I still don't want him anymore."

Elizabeth looked at her son. Kurt could see the sadness in her blue eyes, had he said something bad?

"Kurt, I'm disappointed in you. I would have expected this from the other children in the yard, and even from Harry's cousin, but from you?" Elizabeth shook her head.

Hurt filled Kurt. "Expected what mommy?"

"Ignorance, Kurt. Ignorance." There was a tone to his mother's words that caused a pang in the boy's heart.

"What's that?"

"It's a form of hate, Kurt." Elizabeth pulled Kurt into her lap. His big blue eyes still filled with tears were confused and cautious. She wanted nothing more that to keep him cradled in her lap and hide from the horrors of the world. But no, she knew doing so would only inhibit her baby boy, it was better to try and teach him while he was young. Maybe, by teaching her son about the horrors of ignorance and hate, he could then teach Harry the joys of love and friendship.

"Ignorance," she continued, "is hate of the unfamiliar or unknown. Hate hurts sweetheart. It causes good people to do bad things and bad people to get away with doing worse things."

"How mommy?" Kurt was confused. Did his mommy think he was bad now?

"Kurt, do you remember when we were at the mall with Aunt Bev and you two were coming back from the bathroom when those men said all those things to her and madder cry?"

Kurt nodded. It had only been a few months ago and he could still remember the sad, red face of his favorite aunt as those men said mean things he didn't understand. He remembered when one grabbed her and pulled her against the wall, while another man pulled at her cloths. She had started to scream, but one of the men had hit her across the face.

Kurt had screamed as loud as he could and jumped on the back of the second man. He bit the man and hit him with a tiny fist while pulling out his hair. It was the combined commotion of his screams, his aunt's sobs, and the man's yelling that had alerted a passing shopper to call security in the normally empty mall. His aunt had carried a bruise on her face for weeks.

"Well Kurt, the reason why those men did what they did was ignorance. Ignorance caused them to hare Aunt Bev because she loves Aunt Amy instead of a man."

Kurt looked at his mother with wide fearful eyes. "Am I like them mommy? Because I said Harry's a butthead?"

"No, Kurt." Elizabeth knew her next words had to be chosen carefully, they could either hurt or help her son's future. "But, you will become like them if you can easily throw away your friends. Things like ignorance and hate start off small, kind of like a seed, Kurt. Once it's planted it will grow and grow and grow until it's so big that you can't move it. When you first met Harry, what did you think?"

Kurt thought for a moment before replying, "I thought that he was small and scared, but you gave him to me so that means he's special. I thought that he is mine."

Elizabeth smiled her son always was possessive. "And when those other children wouldn't let Harry play with them, what did you think then?"

"That they were mean, and Harry is my friend so they can't be mean to him."

"So Kurt why, if Harry meant so much to you in such a short amount of time that you would yell at those other children for his sake, are you so ready and willing to give him up? Because you got angry at him without knowing his reasons for doing what he did?"

Kurt was silent. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he realized he was acting just like those jerks that had made his aunt cry. "How do I stop from being ignorant, mommy?"

Elizabeth smiled at her son and held him close. "You just have to take a breath and think about why you are angry before you act on it honey. Remember that you will get mad at your friends but you won't stay mad forever, but words said in anger can hurt for a long time. You also have to know that some people are bad Kurt, some people are good, but most people just follow what everyone else around does or says. Most everyone else thinks Harry is bad because of what his family says about him, but you and I know different."

Kurt nodded. He still didn't understand completely, but he was sure he would one day. Until then, he just had to be more careful about getting mad.

"You have a voice in you Kurt. This voice will tell you whether or not you can trust a person. Sometimes this voice will be very quiet, more like a feeling than anything else, and others it will be so loud you'll wonder if others can hear it. Either way, you should listen to it Kurt."

Kurt nodded once more. He began to doze off, the soft repetitive caress of his mother's soft hands on his back lulling him to sleep. Before he could completely fall asleep, Kurt asked himself what he thought about Harry.

'_Mine.'_

HP/KH KH/HP

By the time the Dursleys had reached the sanctity of their own home, the sun had almost completely set. The crickets began to chirp and the sky was painted in pretty purples, pinks and oranges.

It was also getting harder and harder to see. Harry had been lucky enough not to trip on the entire walk back over to the house, he dreaded to think the punishment he would have to face if he slowed his relatives down any further. Uncle Vernon seemed ready to explode already.

Harry had almost walked through the door when Dudley reached out and shoved him, propelling the small boy into his uncle's back. The blow from hitting his uncle had Harry sprawled on the floor in the next instant.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon roared. It was followed by a kick to the stomach that left Harry gasping for air and Dudley watching with glee.

"Get up boy!" Aunt Petunia pulled him up from the floor before Uncle Vernon could kick him again. "And Vernon, really, what if he bruises and the Hummels see it?" She turned acidic eyes toward Harry. "The freak causes us enough problems, we don't need anymore."

'_A warning,'_ Harry realized.

"But Pet," Uncle Vernon sounded strained. "We can't leave him unpunished. It'll only encourage his freakish ways."

"I didn't say don't punish him, just don't bruise him." With one last glare at her nephew, Aunt petunia walked up the stairs and out of sight.

"You heard her boy." Uncle Vernon said almost gleefully.

Dudley, who at first looked rather put out by his mother's interference, was once again smirking joyously at his cousin's misfortune.

Harry remained perfectly still. Any movement at this point could just provoke the large man.

The first blow to his bottom was only surprising in the fact it wasn't delivered with the same bruising force as normal. That wasn't to say it didn't hurt, because it certainly did, as did the four that followed.

After only five smacks to his bottom, Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar and tossed him to his cupboard under the stairs. Only half as many blows as normal. Harry remained tense however, while not common Uncle Vernon would occasionally throw Harry into his cupboard only to pull him out moments later to give him another thrashing.

Only after he heard Uncle Vernon lock his cupboard did he allow himself to relax.

Harry looked around his cramp cupboard, thinking back on his day. Even Dudley bouncing on the stairs did little to dampen the happiness swelling within Harry. His punishment wasn't even close to being as painful as it normally was. He had gotten a cookie today, and he had even been told what he needed to do in order to become a good boy. Perhaps the most important, and the most unbelievable, was the arrival of Harry's first and only friend. Kurt.

'_Mine.'_

HP/KH KH/HP

It was two days later when Harry was finally allowed outside. The only soreness he held was in his stomach from where Uncle Vernon had kicked, but even that was only a dull ache. The bruise was already beginning to fade around the edges.

Aunt Petunia had given him more chores around the house. Harry figured this was part punishment and part reasoning for the slightly bigger portions he was getting at meal times, when he was allowed to eat at least.

Life had certainly improved. Not much by most people's standard but to Harry the difference was night and day. Maybe, if these changes continued, Harry might be considered a good boy.

Maybe then his aunt and uncle would love him.

Thoughts like these were what fueled both Harry's hope and body to work faster and harder than he ever had before.

He had been weeding the garden for less than an hour when he heard a soft voice hiss, "Good sssunning day."

Harry paused in his work and looked around. Uncle Vernon had already left for work and Aunt Petunia and Dudley were inside watching the telly.

"Ssstupid human boy blocksss the sssun."

Harry looked down and was surprised to see a small green snake poke its head out from under the bush.

"Ssstupid humansss." It hissed.

"Are-are you talking?" Harry whispered.

The snake quickly backed up into the bush. Did Harry imagine it, or did the snake look surprised?

"A human boy ssspeaksss?"

Shocked, Harry shuffled away. "Y-y-you talk!" Harry accused. He must have gone insane.

The snake slithered out from the bush. "Interesssting," it hissed, "a ssspeaking human."

Harry shut his eyes tightly. "I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming. Bad, freaky boys talk to animals and I am a good boy now. I'm a good boy. When I open my eyes the talking snake will be gone. I'm a good boy. I'm a good boy." He chanted.

"I mussst tell. I mussst tell of the human boy that ssspeaksss."

Harry heard a soft rustling. Gathering his courage, Harry opened his eyes and looked down.

Gone.

The strange talking snake was gone.

"I am a good boy." Harry said like a prayer.

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's voice rang.

Harry swallowed before he shakily replied, "Yes, Aunt Petunia?"

"Get inside and clean up quickly!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry got up to do as he was told.

He spared one last glace to where the snake had been before turning to go into the house.

"I am a good boy."


End file.
